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o n e : her eyes

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HER EYES

Sometimes (rarely), Isaiah Multiple Middle Named Matthews liked to pride himself on preparing himself on possible outcomes that could...well, outcome. However, as prepared as he was, sometimes (rarely), he was a little...unprepared. 

Like on this day.

For you see, it was once he was about to take a step into the crowded coffee shop that Isaiah M.M.N. Matthews realised three things;

(1) that he really wasn't in the mood for the evils of logarithms or polynomials. He'd be more enthusiastic to be a cheerleader at a funeral.

(2) that on a scale of dumb to idiotic, it was very stupid of him to decide to do his homework at the café.

(3) that Madison was inside right now, and she was in there with all three of her obnoxious girlfriends.

The latter almost caused him to do a complete one-eighty and go to the library (y'know, where it was actually common to do homework).

He was completely unprepared for this. This was not how his afternoon was supposed to go. Already, he wasn't having that great a day and the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Cheer Vice-Captain Queen Bee that was Madison Von Barring was not about to make it better. The title that came along with her name was tiring enough, really.

Just like when they had been dating, Madison always knew how to interfere with his plans. He liked order. He liked to be organised. He loved routine. Madison knew this. And somehow, she also knew that he'd be at Beans n Stuff today to do his homework.

Though Madison had become a little annoying and far too persistent, Isaiah concluded from the other side of the glass door that his ex-girlfriend should have no influence over his activities. And also that she couldn't possibly have known he'd be there today. And with that, he entered.

And then Isaiah realised something the second he was on the other side of the door.

It wasn't the fact that some few people's gazes were still on him, even though the tinkly little bell placed above the door had long faded into the background. It wasn't the fact that the café's warmth enveloped him to the point where it was almost a little uncomfortable, either. But it was the ugly fact that there were absolutely no empty tables left.

Isaiah could feel his brows furrow. He scanned the café again, determined to find at least one empty table. But there wasn't one. Not even outside.

Groaning internally, he ran a tanned hand through his brown hair. It was still damp from his shower, sticking to his forehead and falling over his eyes a little.

He felt so...unprepared. So helpless.

Was this how others felt when they didn't tend to plan every hour of their lives? Probably.

He concluded that since he had places to be (home, before his father and Hélèn went out for their disgraceful 'wedding' anniversary) and calculus to not fail, he had to be on his way to the library.

And he was just about to pivot on his sneaker heel. But then, he saw it. Not an empty table, but a seat.

It was an empty seat opposite an old man eating a piece of cheesecake. Isaiah felt some sort of relief wash over him. Thankful he didn't have to catch another bus to the library, Isaiah began to stride over to his unbeknown saviour, fingers clutched around his thick maths books. But then, he saw it again. The seat was directly beside Madison and her girlfriends.